


Inevitable

by reysroses



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Blood, featuring cameos by other bmc book characters, i love this au i THRIVE for this au, mild violence, why is everyone singing???
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reysroses/pseuds/reysroses
Summary: Jeremy hates musicals. What will happen when his small New Jersey town in invaded by aliens that make everyone sing and dance? While Jeremy be able to save the planet from destruction or will he go down singing with the rest of them?





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> I recently rewatched TGWDLM and thought of this amazing au. I hope you like it as much as I do!

 

_ Click. Click. Click. _

 

“Hey, uh, Jeremy?”

 

Jeremy stopped typing and looked up. Jake was staring expectantly at him, a whisper of a close-lipped smile dusting his face. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Jake coughed. “I was trying to print something but I think I sent it to your printer by accident.”

 

Jeremy averted his eyes towards the printer on his desk, and yep, there was Jake’s paperwork. He grabbed the page by the edge, and turned his body towards Jake Dillinger, waving it slightly. Jake leaned over and grabbed the paper from his hand, nodding his head in silent thanks. Jeremy faltered for a moment, before turning back to Jake.

 

“Um, just remember that you want to print from the HP LaserJet, not the HP InkJet.”

 

Jake smiled, mouth full of white teeth. “Right. Sorry, Jeremy.”

 

Jeremy nodded, “It’s fine.”

 

Jeremy went back to typing.  _ Click. Click. Click. _

“Hey, Jeremy? Can I get those reports on my desk by the end of the day?”

 

Jeremy looked up to see his boss, Mark, standing over his desk, cup of coffee in one hand.

 

“Uh, yeah, of course, Mr. Jackson.”

 

“Great.” He lifted his mug as if it was a chalice and toasted to the air. Jeremy watched as he lumbered back to his office, closing his door with a click.

 

Before Jeremy could continue his work, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Clutching a clipboard to her chest stood one of his coworkers, flicking a pencil back and forth between her fingers.

 

“Oh, hey, Anne.” Jeremy forced a casual smile, glancing towards the women standing before him.

 

She smiled back. Holding up her clipboard, she asked, “Are you going to join the company softball league?”

 

Jeremy thought for a moment before responding with “No.”

 

“Aw, but it might be fun?” She elbowed his shoulder, trying to coax him into batting a bunch of balls with people he can only tolerate for the 8 hour workday.

 

He sighed, but stood his ground. “I know, but I don‘t want to.”

 

He watched as her shoulders sunk a little, a face of defeat quickly being replaced with her smiley expression from earlier. “Alright! Remember that Mr. Jackson wants those reports by the end of the day!”

 

He went back to typing.  _ Click. Click. Click. _

 

He hears the phone ring. It’s on Brooke’s desk.

 

“Hello? This is Brooke- hello, Chlo! How are you-oh. But honey,” she lowers her voice to a soft whisper,”it’s cuddle night! Well, don’t you think I’m tired too? ” Her sudden volume causes a shiver down his spine. “Alright, okay. Tomorrow night, then!” He silently watches as her brows scrunch together and the brightness from her face disappears. “No, you’re right. We should stick to the schedule. Next month it is! Now listen, Chloe, you better be careful because I love y-” Her words stop short as the dial tone beeps. 

 

Jeremy watches as she sets the phone back down and reaches into her purse, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, hands shaking feverishly.

“Oh, um, Brooke? You can’t smoke in here?”

 

She looks at him with a look of confusion. He gestures slightly, and jumps back as she slams her foot down.

 

“Oh, I didn’t even realize. Thank you, Jeremy,: she says, while digging through her purse. She grasps a small bottle of booze, Jeremy can smell it from his desk, and takes a swig.

 

He needs to get out of here. Standing up and stretching his arms, he tugs on his jacket and grabs his wallet, sticking it in his back pocket. 

 

“Hey, I’m gonna go grab some coffee, anyone wanna tag along?” He directed his words towards Jake, looking at him expectantly.

 

Jake shook his head, smile faltering. “I gotta keep refreshing this webpage. See, I only have Christine for another day until she has to go back home to her mother. Listen to this, she took her all the way to New York to see Hamilton. And she loved it! So I’m on HotTix right now, because it’s finally here! The touring cast of Mama Mia!” Jake rambled excitedly.

 

Jeremy grimaced.

 

Jake spun around in his chair, looking up at Jeremy for once in his goddamn life. “Hey, you should come with us! Christine thinks you’re really cool! You could maybe throw in some good words about me to her, right?” He elbows his side, a bit too hard. Sometimes Jake forgets that he isn’t a stone statue. 

 

“Sorry Jake, but...no.”

 

Jake looked Jeremy in the eyes again. “What, do you have plans? A hot date or something?” He laughs, a spark of humor decorating his dark eyes.

 

Jeremy sighed. “No.” His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

 

Jake stopped laughing, “You mean to tell me that you’d rather sit at home than go see Mama Mia with us?” 

 

“Jake, I’d rather do anything else than to see Mama Mia. The thought of sitting there, being stuck in a musical, that is my own personal hell.” He giggles, but internally shudders at the idea.

 

“I’m trying to reconnect with my daughter, Jeremy.”

 

Jeremy shifted his weight back and forth between the balls of his feet. He scratched at his wrist, a nervous tick. “Uh, how about I get you something from Beanies? A caramel frappe, how does that sound?”

 

Jake shrugged, refreshing the page again. Alright. Jeremy walked towards the door, only to be stopped by a short, muscular figure.

 

“Are you going to Beanies? Why didn’t you invite me, huh?”

 

Jeremy sighed. “Sorry, Rich. Do you wanna come?”

 

Rich laughed abruptly, punching Jeremy in his bony shoulder. “Nah, nah, nah,” he mumbled. “I don’t wanna show you up, ya know?” He winked.

 

“What?”

 

Rich cackled again. “Jeremy, c’mon man. I know why you walk all the way to that coffee-house instead of just going to the Starbucks across the street.”

 

Jeremy paled. “Um-uh, I just don’t wanna give my money to some corporate chain,” he managed to stutter out, hands clamming up.

 

Rich raised an eyebrow, arms crossing his chest. “Are you sure it’s not because of that smoking hot barista, Heere?”

 

“No!”

 

“Like, dude, that’s all spank bank material for me. I- hey! Hey, fuckwad, get me a chai tea!” He yelled to Jeremy as he scampered out the door.

  
  


Jeremy was nearly hit by the door when he walked up the steps to the building. A man stormed out a the building, yelling about how bad their service was here, and that he’d tell all his friends not to step a fucking foot into this place.

 

Walking into the small cafe, Jeremy got into the short line. He heard someone cough, and looked up, voice catching in his throat.

 

The barista was leaning on the counter, flicking a pen between his fingers. He smiled down at Jeremy, and waved slightly, the bracelets on his wrist sliding down his arm.

 

“Hey, what can I getcha?”

 

Jeremy cleared his throat and offered up a shy smile of his own. “Here’s an easy one for you. A large black coffee.” The barista nodded his head, and turned to the coffeepot behind the counter. Jeremy’s eyes glanced towards the tip jar and dropped a five dollar bill in.

 

“Aw, seriously?” He heard the barista groan, slamming the pot down and turning to face him. “ _I’ve been brewing up your coffee-_ ” he sang in an annoyed tone.

 

Jeremy threw his hands up, as if to protect himself. “Oh, no, um, I don’t need you to sing! I just tipped because...because people should tip.”

 

The barista faltered for a second, then put his arms down from the dance he was doing. “Oh, well, thank you. ‘Cause it’s not really a tip if I have to sing for it, right? Most people tip, like less than a buck, which I have to split with five other people, so I barely make twenty-five cents per song.” 

 

The barista set the coffee cup down on the counter and continued talking. “It’s like I have another shitty paying job on top of my already shitty paying job! I didn’t sign up to make coffee and sing for these assholes! Uh, not that you’re an asshole or anything,” he paused, then cracked his knuckles, scanning Jeremy up and down. “Well, actually, let’s see what you tipped.”

 

He reached his slender carmel fingers into the tip jar and fished out the crinkled green strip. His eyes widened behind his thick glasses. “Five bucks? Nice!” He looked back towards Jeremy, eyes twinkling. “Did you mean this just for me? Like, I don’t have to split this with anyone?”

 

“Oh yeah, I don’t give a shit about any of them.” Jeremy shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

 

The barista smiled, a real smile, which caused Jeremy’s heart to flutter. “I see you here all the time. What’s your name?” He inquired, running his fingers through his raven curls.

 

“It’s Jeremy.”

 

The barista nodded, and stuck out his hand. “Michael. Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”

 

Jeremy grasped his hand and shook it lightly, silently gasping when Michael’s thumb brushed his wrist when their hands separated.

 

“You realize there’s a Starbuck down the street, right? Why come here, then?” Michael asked, corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

 

Jeremy smiled. “Some things are worth it.” He can feel his face turning red as he stares dreamily at Michael. He coughs, “like damn good coffee!” Michael laughed, and boy did Jeremy want to hear that noise again.

“Michael! Stop socializing, you’ve got a line!”

 

Michael winced, hand going to grip his collar. He averted his eyes for a second, before looking back at Jeremy. “Uh, I have to get back to work. But maybe we can talk some other time?” Jeremy nodded a bit too quickly.

 

“Michael!”

 

“Sorry, Madeline, I’m working, alright?” He shot back, waving at Jeremy as he walked out, turning around before he could see Jeremy’s fist pumping in the air.

 

Jeremy walked back with a skip in his step, maneuvering through the crowds of people getting off of work. 

 

“Excuse me, sir?” A female voice shot out, with a glimpse of the green apron, and he groaned. It was one of those “Help Save the Planet” people, the ones who hand out pamphlets and won’t let you go home until you’ve donated your life savings towards saving some endangered animal. “Do you want to hear about how you can save the planet? It is the planet, after all.” She smiled at him, hands clutching the array of papers in her hand.

 

“Uh, I’m good.” She stood in front of him, blocking his way. “But it’ll only take a few minutes-”

 

“Actually, you’re from GreenPeace, aren’t you? I already donate to you guys,” Jeremy lied, frantic to get away. 

 

“Oh, so you must know about our new campaign for the sea turtles?”

 

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, uh, I got the emails.”

 

Her face configured into a frown. “You don’t donate to us. I just made that up.”

 

“Well, guess what! None of that money even goes to the sea turtles!”

 

“Well, yeah, because I just made it up. It doesn’t exist.”

 

“I give my money straight to the people who need it!”

 

A homeless man walked up to the apir at that moment, and asked for spare change. “Sorry, I don’t have any,” Jeremy replied. The GreenPeace girl rolled her eyes. “What a fucking superhero you are.”

 

Jeremy whirled around, fists clenched. “What, it’s not like anything I do could save the planet singlehandedly!”

A flash of light interrupted his rant, and the two turned around.

 

“What...what is that?”

 

The air was crisp with confusion and fear. Jeremy shook his head, not believing his eyes. He shoved his hands back into his pockets and trekked home, shaking the unfamiliar tune that was now spiraling in his brain.

  
  


It was raining, fat and cold droplets. Michael stood outside the work, jacket over his head. He turned towards Madeline, his coworker, who has attempting to shield her head with her textbooks.

 

“Need a ride?” He gestured towards his car, a silver PT Cruiser parked in the almost empty lot.

 

“In your piece of junk? I’d rather not die, thank you.”

 

Michael rolled his eyes and jogged to his car. Once he left, a shadowed figure exited from the alleyway, slithering up behind the girl.

 

“Ugh, stop it Chloe, I know you’re there.”

 

Chloe laughed and placed her hand on curve of Madeline’s wasit, leaning in to kiss the juncture of her neck.

 

Giggling, Madeline pushed her away, and dug through her messenger bag. “Hey, here’s that surprise I was telling you about.” She held up two tickets to Mama Mia, which Chloe grabbed from her hand.

 

“I never miss a musical, and if any thinks that makes me less of a badass, they can talk to my FUCKING GUN!”

 

The women laughed as they swung back into the alleyway to do god knows what.

  
  


“I’ll stay safe, okay, love you too, bye.” 

 

Christine hung up the phone after talking to her father, who was on the way to pick up her and Jenna, her girlfriend. It was starting to rain, and the small group of teenagers were standing against the back fence of some field. Christine averted her eyes towards two of her friends who were sharing a blunt.

 

“Take a hit, Chrissy!”

 

She shook her head no, “I don’t think I should.”

 

Jenna walked over and slung her arm around her shoulders, which she snuggled into. “She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to.”

 

“That’s not how it works, Jen! You’re either in the smoke club, or you’re out!” 

 

Jenna pulled her closer, glaring at the two. “Well, I guess we’re out then.” She flipped them off as the two walked towards the spot her father said he was picking them up. She weaved her fingers through Jenna’s and smiled.

  
  


“The storm’s real bad. I hope Chloe’s alright.”

 

Brooke stood in her bathrobe, cigarette in one hand, gazing out the window at the rain. She heard the footsteps behind her, and shivered at the feeling of hot breath on the back of her neck.

 

“Fuck Chloe. Come back to bed, babe,” Rich whispered in her ear, hands finding her waist and giving it a squeeze, brushing his lips on her earlobe.

 

Brooke sighed, and turned around to meet Rich’s eyes. “Alright, but this has to be the last time we do this thing.”

 

“Oh sure, you said that last time. If you don’t like what we’re doing, there’s the fucking door!” Rich growled, ripping his hands from her hips and grumbling towards the bedroom.

 

Brooke put out her cigarette, and looked longingly out the frosted window. She bit her lip as she felt her body moving back towards Rich’s bedroom. 

  
  


The thunder clapped from outside and shook the building. The man stood up, crying out “Alexa!” The machine whirred to life and waited for its command.

 

“Alexa, it’s happening. At last, all my work has come to this.” The man spun around, eyeing the machine, which stayed silent. This wasn’t part of its programming. 

 

He walked into the light, the shadows climbing over his face.

 

“This is the eve of humanity’s final hour, Alexa.”

 

The power flickered off, and plunged the lab into darkness. Alexa went back to sleep.


End file.
